


detention

by trappedbyvellichor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Boggarts, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy-centric, Eventual Happy Ending, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Ish?? - Freeform, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Lupin is third wheeling, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, god where am i going with this, lol, mostly at least
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trappedbyvellichor/pseuds/trappedbyvellichor
Summary: Draco was sure what his boggart was. He was also sure that absolutely nobody should ever find out. So what happens when he's made to battle it in front of, out of everybody, his biggest crush? Now he’s stuck finding away to escape from pureblood terror, with help from people he’d never expect.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 46
Kudos: 296





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry, this was supposed to be fluffy and light hearted. where the hell have i gone on to?? but i mean, please enjoy... Trigger Warnings: Abuse, self-harm.

Draco Malfoy's eyes locked with Harry's cold, green ones. He didn't want to be doing this. Every rare small contact they made already produced raging butterflies in his stomach. He didn't want to be in bloody _duel_ with him. But he could hear his father's words in his head, telling him that it was a _strong_ and _manly_ thing to do. And Harry's words, egging him on.

"Go on, let's see if you're really as smart as you think you are," he sneered, in a voice very unlike the one he used with Ron and Hermione. "Let's see if your beloved _father'll_ come and save you this time,"

Draco's chest tightened at the mention of his father. But there was no going back now. He really couldn't blame Harry though, he was the one who insulted the Weasleys before.

He forced a dark grin, and saw in a quick movement as Harry took out his wand and yelled "Expelliarmus!" Draco raised his wand, shouting "Protego," and was thankfully quick enough. However, he needed to hex Harry too, so in instinct, he shouted out a bat-bogey hex, which Harry only just managed to dodge.

"Oh, got lucky Potter," he spat out.

They went on like this, dodging each other's spells, therefore attracting a large crowd of students, blocking the corridors. And it was almost fun, seeing as Draco almost never had time to talk to Harry, as much as he wanted to. 

And then, the new professor of Defense against the Dark arts, professor Lupin, ran in, obviously surprised at all the commotion. His face fell when he saw Harry and Draco fighting.

"Potter and Malfoy, please follow me," he said in a somewhat tired and exasperated voice, lined with disappointment. Draco had been weirded out by the professor, to say the least, in the past. He'd come up to Draco and asked about his home life more than once now, which was slightly scary. 

Draco followed Lupin, keeping his eyes fixed in a glare towards the back of Harry's head. The laughing and teasing behind him was building up his rage. The professor led them into his office, which was much more exciting than Draco cared to admit. 

There were shelves filled with various objects, as well as a huge bookshelf, filled with different books. A cage with some type of interesting creature was kept towards a wall, next to a locked chest. The walls were faded brown, and the whole room felt really warm and comforting, almost like home.

Lupin waved his wand, bringing two chairs in front of his desk, where Draco and Harry slowly sat down. Harry's looked towards the professor, while Draco kept his eyes fixed on the table.

"Professor, I know what it looks like, but I- I was provoked," Harry started. "Malfoy made a really rude-" but Harry was cut off by Lupin, who said in a now much calmer voice "I understand that the circumstances were unfair to you Harry, but nothing could justify having a fully blown duel in the corridors,"

"However," he added, looking at Draco, whose angry gaze was still fixed on the table, "I cannot tolerate any form of crude language or remarks, Draco. I understand, that your _family_ may accept such views, but here in Hogwarts, we don't," he finished. 

"Though I assume this won't happen again, I'm still required to punish you. How about... let's see, detention, Thursday night?" This earnt him a defeated groan from Harry, which made him add "Don't worry, it won't be boring," with a small grin. 

Draco was sent out, as Lupin needed to speak "privately" to Harry, and he left the room, giving a cold glare to Harry. He was filled with cold rage, and a little guilt or sadness. _Why was Harry always the favourite one? He was no doubt probably listening to endless praise from Lupin, or some other form of attention. It was really unfair._

* * *

_"What did I tell you? Don't say anything unless you are asked to!" Lucius Malfoy's voice rang through the hall, echoing off the walls. Draco slowly stepped back, knowing there was no use in trying to fight back._

_"I- I'm sorry, please. I p- promise I won't do it again," he replied, trying to keep his voice from breaking._

_Draco felt a sharp pain jolt through his body. His insides felt like they were being electrocuted, or maybe torn apart. The pain was excruciating, but he couldn't let it show; his father would kill him if he cried. But he wanted it to stop, please, he just wanted it to stop. He'd do anything for it to stop._

_The pain slowly subsided, but Draco still felt extremely weak. He knew the spell would hit him again soon though, so he braced himself, sitting in a fetal position, with his head resting on his knees._

_The posture broke apart as another strike hit him, sending even worse lightning bolts of pain through his body. The words "pathetic" and "weak" filled his head, as he screamed, with tears in his eyes..._

Draco suddenly sat up in his bed, his heart in his throat beating rapidly. It was another nightmare, thank Merlin, he was still at Hogwarts, far away from his father. He violently wiped away the tears on his face, feeling guilty at being so weak. 

The silencing charm was put on his bed every night, so the others wouldn't hear his screams and sobs. Nobody could ever know that Draco Malfoy actually had emotions. His steady stream of tears was aided by the thoughts swirling around his head.

_"Why? Just why? Why?"_

It was almost a mantra for him now, constantly being repeated in his head. He reached down, under his bed, and grabbed the box. This wooden box was taken out most nights. He reached out for the key under his pillow, and unlocked it. Inside, there were sharp blades. Many that he'd collected over the years.

His favourite ones were the shards of mirror from the time his father had smashed it in anger. The thin, silver blades were really sharp, and being enchanted, they would cut deeper and more painfully.

This was his secret. This was how he was able to live with being the horrible person he was. This was how he was able to live with all the secrets and memories. This was his coping method, the only thing that kept him alive. And thank Merlin, no one knew about it. At least, not yet.

* * *

Thursday arrived fairly quickly. Draco was actually looking forward to sharing detention with _Harry_. Gryffindor and Slytherin only had classes together two or three times a day, so Draco rarely got to see him.

He actually accidentally caught Harry's eyes at one point, and to his surprise, Harry was staring at him. The thought stayed with him the entire day. _Harry was looking at him!_

However, Thursday night's detention was not what Draco expected. His blood ran cold, and his chest felt tight when he realised what they'd be doing. Lupin met them in the empty Defense against the Dark Arts classroom, like they were told to. Standing in front of them was a closed closet which was making noises, while shaking violently, as though something was inside it.

It was a boggart. A few weeks ago, the Gryffindors and Slytherins had a class in which they each tried to face their boggart, one by one. But Lupin dismissed the class before Harry had the chance, much to Draco's relief. Draco had a good idea of what his boggart would be.

"Alright boys, so I thought you two could get some extra practice on the same boggart, since you didn't get to during class," said Lupin, giving Harry a significant look. "Harry, why don't you go first? Remember what you learnt."

Harry walked in front of the closet, wand in hand. Lupin opened the door, and a hooded figure with torn black cloaks came out. A dementor. It was horrible. the little bit of happiness left in the room had completely vanished. Draco suddenly felt cold and hollow, and flinched when he could've sworn he heard his father's voice.

Harry raised his wand and shouted a spell that Draco couldn't hear properly. A white form, of a shape that barely resembled a deer, or a stag, burst out from the tip of his wand. It felt like this stag had brought the warmth and comfort into the room again, as the dementor retreated back into the cupboard.

Shit. Now it was Draco's turn to face the boggart.

Shit.

_What was he supposed to do? He'd be considered weak and stupid, and especially in front of Harry, he'd completely embarrass himself, and the news would spread around the school like wildfire. It would be "Draco Malfoy is scared of his father!" everywhere..._

Lupin was calling out his name. The professor waved his hand, inviting Draco to face the boggart. Draco's stomach was clenching and twisting uncomfortably. He felt sick and light headed, and his heartbeat was way too fast. His fingers had gone pale, as he was gripping his wand so hard.

"Professor, could I instead do something else, _please_?" he asked, slightly desperate. "I swear, I'll do anything else, just not this, not in front of you and him,"

All the colour drained from his face when he realised what he said.

"Don't worry, Draco, you can trust me, I promise, and as for Harry, I'm sure he won't go around blabbering about your boggart, will you Harry?" He cast a glance at Harry, who looked somewhere in between curious and amused."

Lupin's calm voice and sympathetic expression finally got Draco to cave in. He walked toward the front of the closet, trying not to show how badly his knees were shaking, and how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed his eyes shut. _"This is it,"_ he thought to himself.

* * *

The door opened, and he heard those distinctive footsteps, not too fast and moderately heavy, slowly and confidently walk out of the closet. He opened his eyes, and watched as the figure's eyes filled with rage before him. He didn't know what to do. _Run? Hide? He had to get away, as fast as possible._

Boggart-Lucius started striking him with his black cane. The real Lucius used to do that when Draco was smaller, but resorted to magical means nowadays. And if there was one thing that could make the situation worse, it would be what the boggart-Lucius had said in a loud, yet calm voice.

"Stupid, weak, queer. A pathetic son, you are," The boggart-Lucius's hand got a tight hold grip on Draco's pale arms. Uncovering Draco's sleeve, revealing the many scars, shining brightly against the pale skin. The boggart yelled "What are these? Why can't you pull yourself together? Disgraceful. I will not have my son-"

A figure- professor Lupin- had appeared in front of him, and Draco saw the creature violently shapeshifting, and saw a giant, glowing orb, which resembled the full moon, before it was hurled back into the closet. 

Draco hadn't realised the cold sweat that covered his body, the shaking that had taken over him, and the tsunami of tears he was releasing. He violently wiped his cheeks, and waited for his breathing to return to normal.

Then he ran. He ran as fast as he could, so the other two in the room couldn't follow him. He ran into the boy's bathrooms on the third floor. There, he ran toward the mirror, and quickly splashed water on his face, begging himself not to break down. Not here, not now.

But the tears eventually made a show. The _weak_ tears. He could feel himself breaking inside. And he could see the world crumbling and falling around him. _Merlin, why? Why did this have to happen?_

With his eyes blurred with tears, he could see a figure in the mirror. A figure with messy, black hair. And an untidy uniform. And round glasses. Harry Potter was standing at the door of the boy's bathroom.

Harry didn't say anything. Draco couldn't blame him. There was nothing to say.

"I bet your _blood traitor_ friends would _really_ enjoy this, wouldn't they?" Draco sneered. But something about the remark sounded hollow and defeated. Draco had never shown this side of him to anyone. This was scary.

Harry's surprisingly warm hands found Draco's cold one's. Their fingers interlocked, making Draco's heart flutter, along with the thousands of butterflies in his stomach. But the best part was the warm feeling that took over his entire body. The light haired boy managed a small smile,

"Come on, let's go back," said Harry in a quiet, gentle voice.

Draco wiped away his tears and walked with Harry, holding his hand. He looked into Harry's eyes. And Merlin, he could drown in them. Deep, forest green, with shades of the different colours in nature. It also sort of reminded him of an Aurora Borealis, like the one he saw on holiday once.

Draco Malfoy could say that the warm feeling in his heart never really disappeared after that night. It was a night he didn't forget.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-
> 
> I have nothing to say for myself.

Harry's hands were surprisingly warm. Their fingers intertwined, making butterflies flutter in Draco's stomach. He could hear Harry's slightly heavy breath, thick with emotions, as they walked up to the classroom. But Draco stopped before the door.

He could feel his lungs burning again, and his breath becoming more and more rapid, and getting caught in his throat as he tried to speak. His chest was tightening, and he couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening, not now. The dizziness had started again. From the corner of his blurry vision, he could see Harry staring at him, but he didn't care at the moment.

He really didn't want to go back there and face the boggart. Especially in front of other people. He felt Harry's hand squeeze his own lightly, bringing him back to earth. With a deep breath and a rapidly beating heart, he pushed open the door.

Professor Lupin was gazing outside the window, and had a look in his eyes that made him look like he was remembering something. He looked nostalgic, and seemed to be in the midst of reliving a memory. The faint smile disappeared however when he noticed Draco, tear stained and breathing rapidly.

"Draco, listen," he said softly. "Breathe slowly, come on, with me." He took a deep breath and let it out. Draco tried to mimic it, and after a few breaths, it worked. He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to calm himself down. And there was something about Harry's mere presence that helped. It almost felt like a warm blanket, and Draco was freezing out in the cold.

"If you don't want to face the boggart, that's completely okay with me. I'm very sorry, though, Draco, if there's anything I could do to help you, please don't hesitate to come up to me," said Lupin solemnly.

But even though Draco would rather do anything than face his father again, something inside of him made him want to fight back, and to face the fear in the face. It might've been foolishness, but it made him want to conquer it, and that was supposed to be good.

"Maybe- Maybe another day," Draco said quietly. But his voice sounded different this time. Less flat and emotionless, and more honest. 

"That's quite alright. Anyway, that's probably enough for today, you can go back to your dorms again."

Draco looked back up at Harry, who gave him a small, assuring smile. And he turned around to walk away. He could feel Harry's eyes on him, and shrugged his cloak back on. As he left through the large, wooden door, he felt a warm, familiar hand grip his shoulder in the dim light.

Draco felt a knot tie itself up in his chest, as butterflies invaded his stomach. He turned back, touching the warm grasp on his shoulder, and met Harry's deep green eyes. The ones that looked like the dark leaves of the wild.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Harry. His voice was soft and deep, yet there was something about it that felt like a shoulder to lean on.

And despite himself, Draco found himself shaking his head.

Draco put his cold hands over Harry's wrist, and pulled lightly, as his strong grip emitted a feeling of belonging. He led Harry to the astronomy tower, the one place he'd always go to for a bit of privacy. He climbed up the hard, stone steps, tangling his fingers with Harry's.

As they reached the top, both of them felt very out of breath. The cold air was rushing against their faces, and Harry's hair was flying wildly, but in the perfect way. The moonlight let a certain glow cover them, making the night truly difficult.

And without warning, their lips had met. It was soft, almost like a hug, but one that filled Draco up so much more. Harry's cold, soft lips against Draco's created a strange sort of beauty, almost like fire and ice. Like one completed the other. It was the best Draco had ever felt before.

Draco's hands were travelling through Harry's messy locks of hair, that curled everywhere, as Harry pulled him closer.

And it almost felt like everything would be okay.

* * *

Breaking away from the kiss almost felt like reawakening. His mind was clear, though the rest of him was fuzzy, and filled with warmth. The cold air of the night was numb, and he felt like he was flying. Harry was staring at him, his eyes bringing butterflies in Draco's stomach.

"I thought you hated me," said Harry, in a soft, low voice.

"I tried to," replied Draco, looking down at his feet. "Trust me, I really did. I thought it would go away, but, I mean, it never really did."

Harry tried to hold Draco's left hand, but he flinched away, stuffing it in the pocket of his cloak. The fuzzy, high balloon inside of him burst, and reality came rushing back at him as harshly as the strong winds blowing the hair into his stinging eyes.

"Well, goodnight," Draco muttered, before turning away, and wiping the tears that started to form in his eyes, as he walked back to the dungeons. The cold walls loomed up on him, as the sinking feeling set on him again.

Draco muttered "Sacred twenty-eight," before walking in through the heavily sliding doors of the dungeons. He sank onto the sofa, and pulled up his sleeve, looking at the messy array of scars. They all looked slightly faded against his light skin, imperfect in a beautiful way.

Footsteps echoed off the walls of the stairs. Draco hastily pulled his sleeve up, as he looked at a dark figure that appeared at the doorway. The short hair, and twisted smirk revealed to be Pansy Parkinson, the only one of Draco's friends with any brains.

"So how was detention with _Potter_?" she asked, almost spitting out the name.

Draco could almost feel himself pulling heavy walls up, as he cleared his throat and put on the mask. "Disgusting. Lupin loved him, like he always does. Well, I suppose I'm lucky to have just gotten detention with it, I mean, imagine if McGonagall had seen me!"

"Did you know Potter's into blokes too?" She asked, as her smirk turned into a grimace. "I mean, his lineage is disgusting in itself, but imagine having to be _that_ too?"

"Well that's Potter for you. Always has to be the worst at everything, but still worshiped by everyone else."

"I know, it get's annoying," she replied, her face relaxing.

"Beyond annoying really. I'll change it, you'll see. Him and his stupid friends."

"Speaking of friends, have you seen that Granger girl? Seems to think she's amazing, always with that bushy hair of hers, buttons all done up, always trimmed nails..." she trailed off as she realised Draco was looking at her suspiciously.

"Wow, seems like someone's in love," said Draco with a grin.

"How dare you, I'm not one of _them_!" she said, a grimace appearing on her face. But there was a little fear in her eyes, that made Draco's heart skip a beat. "Anyways, I have an assignment to finish, so I'll see you in the morning."

"Well then, goodnight."

Draco watched as she disappeared to the girls dorms, and the walls fell. He felt exposed, not only to the outside world, but to himself. A heavy stone had sunken in his stomach, and broke open. He felt a strange emptiness inside him, and told himself a little pain would fix that. 

So going back up to the dorms, walked toward the room. The thoughts swirling around in his head were making everything blurry. He remembered his heart stopping as he heard footsteps behind him, and whipped his head around, only to find a big cat.

So into his bed he sunk, eyes closed with exhaustion, casting the same enchantments he'd been casting since the first night he'd slept here. Looking around the room, he sat up and took out the key and box again.

The bed sheets were stained with blood yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my sudden burst of motivation has decided to make this a small, fluffy-ish fic. by the way, who spotted the pansmione?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; graphic self harm (because hurt and angst.) please read the tags!

Draco pushed the blade into his skin, and watched as the glimmering blood rose up from his skin. The mess inside was slowly pouring out, as the pain took over, and the warm blood stained his skin. Tears slipped down from his eyes, blurring his vision.

He felt the blade carve down deeper and deeper, until the pain had completely taken over, and he could nothing else. The cuts stung, and it felt like a cold wind was blowing over him, as he was shaking with sobs, and felt so, so exposed.

And the sadness was taking over in waves. Pushing him in and out, not allowing him to breathe. He wanted to push just a little harder, so it could all end. So he didn't have to think about the day, about his father, about how everything would turn out.

He was shaking, and feelings were hitting him harsher than any cane could. And every inch of him was screaming for escape from this torture. As his mind became fuzzier, he eventually drifted off into fitful sleep.

The boggart drifted in and out of his dreams, as he could picture it happening in front of everyone. Until it was too much, and he'd woken up at early morning in cold sweats. He started charming his forearms, so they were no longer littered with ragged tears, hoping that yesterday's detention would be forgotten.

* * *

Draco walked down to breakfast, still half asleep. He felt professor Lupin's evident stare itch its way into him, as he tried to ignore it, as well as Harry's, though at least Harry was trying to hide it.

Weasley and Granger were looking oddly at Harry, which made Draco's stomach twist with jealousy. The fact that they were practically _bathing_ in his presence, the fact that they took their lives for granted. Sometimes he wished he could tell them how lucky they were with their families, and their friends, and-

"Oi Malfoy, you done staring at Harry?"

The feelings were punched out of him, and suddenly he was numb again. "My taste isn't despicable. Now shove off, or I'll tell Pansy about your crush on _her_ ," he replied, nodding towards Ginny on the Gryffindor table, making Blaise blush and turn away.

Rubbing at his eyes, he somehow managed to elegantly fall onto the bench. The familiar fluttering of wings could be heard, as the light smell of owls swooped down from above. Letters were falling, and Draco looked pointedly at his plate as faces around him lit up in excitement or interest.

The only packages he'd ever gotten was for money and birthday gifts. Apparently, his father was too busy to write letters, as was his mother. Which was why he always felt a pang of jealousy as he'd unconsciously turn around to look at Harry receiving letters, all three of them laughing and smiling over what they'd gotten. 

"So how was detention? What'd you have to do?" asked Crabbe, slightly in admiration.

"None of your business," muttered Draco darkly.

"What even- keep your hair on. Seriously, what'd you do?" asked Blaise, who had joined in the conversation, much to Draco's displeasure.

"Essay on Grindylows. Waste of time, really. Not like _I'm_ ever going to need this information later in my life."

"Yeah, right?"

"And Lupin's practically obsessed with Harry. Basically did his detention for him, while I had to do it by myself," spat Draco, while unconsciously tugging at the hem of his sleeve.

"Talking of him, he's staring at you right now," said Blaise, sounding confused, turning towards the teacher's table.

Draco felt his heart skip a beat and a cold chill run down his spine, before irritation came over him, and he pulled up the rudest glare he could muster. But he didn't get the satisfaction of an angry professor, but more a look of pity, which further infuriated him.

He suddenly stood up, and stepped over the bench, making sure he was making as much noise as he could. Turning his head, and brushing the hair out of his eyes, he stalked out of the room in anger.

* * *

The noise in his head was too much. He wanted to scream, to cry, to shout, but at the same, just wanted it all to stop. He squeezed his eyes shut, and walked towards the doors, feeling the cold rush of wind blowing his hair back and screaming in his ears.

But something didn't feel right, and he realised what it was when he looked behind him.

"Been following me, Crabbe? Nothing better to do?" he asked, with an edge to his voice.

"S- Sorry. You seemed angry," he replied in a flat voice, looking down.

"Well get lost then. I'm not your entertainment system, am I?!"

The anger had spiked up again, and he took a deep, cold breath, before getting to the greenhouses for herbology. It wasn't a long walk, but his muscles were nevertheless burning when he'd reached, and he just wanted to go back to bed. 

But his hopes of being alone for a while were shattered as he saw a girl admiring the swirling tentacle of a plant. The top half of her long, wavy, blonde hair was tied into a messy bun, and Draco could see the edge of her tie, which was faded and blue. Her skin was light, almost ethereal and her clothes were slightly loose, hanging off of her body.

She turned around, and revealed large, dreamy eyes, which were silvery and looked magical. And as she spoke, her accent was Irish, while her high voice was silk like, with a wispish edge to it. Draco couldn't help liking her a little.

"Aren't you Draco Malfoy?" she asked, walking towards him.

Draco looked around. The room was empty, and he really had nothing to lose. "Yeah, who are you?" His voice sounded less harsh than normal.

"You're not that mean, are you? You're just hurt," she said gently. "I can see it in your eyes. They can tell a lot about you, you know. Your eyes, for example, look deep, like they're hiding endless emotions. I'm Luna, by the way. Luna Lovegood."

Draco was taken back by what the girl had said, but couldn't help trusting her. Maybe it was something about her aura, that made him feel comfortable and safe.

"Thank you, I guess? Um, what are you doing here? No offense."

"None taken," she said, with a smile on her face. "I'm just admiring the venemous tentancula. They're known to be helpful in memory potions, though everyone else believes otherwise."

"If you say so," muttered Draco, more interested in the symbols on the girl's earrings.

"Don't you like magical plants? They can be really fascinating. Like the mandrake pants, that helped everyone when I was in first year."

"I got bitten by one, so I'm not a big fan of them."

Luna let out a loud laugh, one that took Draco by surprise. "How did that even happen?"

"I- I really don't know," Draco said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as a cold wind blew through the window. "I never really liked herbology."

"Oh. That's too bad," she said, with a sight.

Draco looked up in surprise, and smiled a little to himself.

"By the way, professor Lupin said he wanted to talk to you, I think. I heard him mention it to professor Snape. He sounded worried," she said, very matter-of-factly.

"Oh- uh- okay, thanks."

His heart skipped a beat, as a feeling of dread washed over him. "You didn't hear exactly what he said, did you?"

"Not really," she said, looking up at the tentacles once more. "But Snape looked really angry, and told him to stop intertwining where he shouldn't."

"Oh, um, okay then. Thanks." 

Draco heard the laughing of children, and his heart sunk as he looked behind to see a crowd of Slytherins running towards them, ending their conversation, and the solitude. He half wished he could just carry on speaking to her, but pulled himself together.

"Well, I better be off then. Nice meeting you," she said, with a little bow, and skipped off, attracting the stares of several students. The muffled chatter became clear as the doors opened, and professor Sprout spotted Draco, giving him a proud look, which Draco returned with a glare.

But during class, he still couldn't stop worrying about meeting professor Lupin. He didn't want to know what he'd be told. Or what would happen. All Draco could do was avoid his stares, and remain as cold as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay yes this coversation was ooc and robotic, but i like luna. hope you liked it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lo and behold, my writing, descent straight (okay wrong choice of word) from the heavens.

"Harry," snapped Hermione. "Are you even listening to me?!"

Harry was broken out of his stream of thoughts, and turned to an angry Hermione, with a glint of concern in her eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about Draco, and watching the Slytherin seemed to assure him. 

Lately, he'd been confused by his feelings for Draco. He thought he hated the boy. But there was something about him that made Harry want to spend all the time in the world with him. Something about him, that just filled Harry with warmth and comfort, in a way Hermione and Ron failed to.

Something about Draco was mysterious, and Harry wanted to know everything about him. Harry had never known anything about Draco, and though every insult hurt just a little, he couldn't help noticing the attractive smirk.

"Harry, that's the eighth time you've looked over to the Slytherin table now." She lowered her voice, and eyes full of concern, she turned toward Harry and looked him in the eyes. "You should tell professor McGonagall if he did anything, she'd listen!"

"No, it's not that," mumbled Harry, breaking off her stare to look at Harry. 

"Well, what is it then?" asked a confused Ron. "You've been staring at him the entire breakfast now, mate."

"Nothing, I told you," replied Harry, looking everywhere but at Hermione and Ron.

"Harry, you clearly have something on your mind."

"No- it's just, remember detention? Well... something happened- that- I can't tell you guys about."

"Why not? Are you okay? What happened?" Hermione sounded slightly panicked now, while Ron looked suspicious, and kept glancing back at the Slytherin table.

"No, Hermione, I'm fine, really. No, it's just- something I have to take care of," he muttered as he saw Draco leave the table, and march off out the doors. Harry grabbed his bag, and stumbled over the bench to rush outside.

He fumbled for his invisibility cloak, and pulled it over him. He looked from right to left, and spotted Draco's figure marching down the hallways, toward the door. Harry tried to run without making his footsteps too loud, almost tripping over it.

He slowed down, but almost fell over when he bumped into Crabbe, who looked bewildered. Harry slammed himself to the side of the wall, and watched as Draco scolded Crabbe. He watched, with a feeling close to nostalgia or longing as Draco stepped outside, the wind blowing harshly against his robes.

Almost disappointingly, Harry pulled off his cloak, and brushed a few short strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked to the floor, rubbing his hands together as the cold air from outside blew shivers down his spine.

Turning away, he picked out the Marauder's map, and stuffed his other hand in his pockets while turning back to class. It wouldn't hurt to be a little late, so he wandered around, watching Draco's spot lingering near Luna's. Harry tried to put off the twinge of jealousy he felt.

Lost in his thoughts again, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander to the kiss that'd happen. And how Harry would want to do it again and again. But he could almost hear Hermione and Ron's reactions.

_"It'd be really unsafe, Harry. I know it shouldn't be like this, but it's not possible, not yet at least. I mean, you could be at risk of expulsion, though I'm not sure about the Wizarding World's view on social matters is at the moment. And with Draco's background, d'you really think it'd be safe? His father, and family? I'm sorry Harry, I really am, but we care about you too much for this."_

_"Have you gone mental? He's a bloke, and for Merlin's sake, he's Draco Malfoy! Remember, the one you hate? He's even a Slytherin! Really, we ought to get you checked by Madam Pomfrey just in case, right 'mione?"_

But the sudden sound of footsteps drawing nearer, along with the edging dot of professor Lupin made Harry hastily stuff the map back in and break out of thought. Lupin rounded from the corner, and eyes came to focus as he saw Harry.

"Harry, could you do me a favour and tell Draco to meet me during lunch. Next week, same day. You could come too, I suppose, that is, if he's okay with it."

"O- okay professor," startled Harry. With a warm smile, Lupin dashed off in the opposite direction. Harry couldn't help feeling something, maybe nervousness, maybe excitement, at the prospect of meeting Draco again.

* * *

An hour or two later, on the other side of the castle, Draco was pacing in Slytherin common room. He'd skipped History of Magic, wanting time to just clear his mind, and rushed up to the common room for some peace and quiet.

It was relatively empty, except for a girl sitting on the other side, reading something. She barely glanced at Draco, before returning to her book. Draco almost wished he could talk to her, so maybe he'd get his thoughts straight. 

Draco found a paper on the floor, filled with messy notes, and ripped it up, throwing each piece into the burnt-out coal of the fireplace, before slumping onto the sofa. He just couldn't concentrate. Something inside him was threatening to burst out.

He picked up a scarf that was laying on the floor, and tried to cover the faded scars on his hand with it, before glancing at the girl, who was thankfully still reading. Throwing the scarf on the floor, he grabbed his wand, holding it so tightly that his fingers were numb, and muttering more charms, so that the scars were completely invisible.

He'd go meet professor Lupin. Show him that there was nothing to be scared of. Perhaps get his father to interfere. And it'd all be over. 

But something inside him, deep inside, didn't want it to be like this. Something inside Draco wanted him to run away. 

But he knew it was impossible. So, he swallowed hard, looked forward, and with his chest out, he walked outside. He was going to face it that way his father would want him to. Maybe he'd finally be true to his family.

Draco was walking down the corridors, straight to professor Lupin's office, though every inch of his body was begging him not to do it. His heavy steps echoed along the corridors, blurring out the quieter steps of a certain Gryffindor who was walking straight toward him.

His bubble of thought was suddenly ruptured as he fell sideways after bumping into someone. "Watch where you're-" he started, but was cut off as the recognition hit him. Harry adjusted his glasses before pulling himself up.

"Oh, uh, professor Lupin- wants to meet you- during lunch next week," he stuttered, trying hard not to lick his lips.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but words were caught at his throat. He didn't want to do this. But he didn't want to keep running as well. "Okay then," he replied in a softer voice than he wanted. "But, uh, Harry?" Harry looked up at him. "Are you going to be there?"

Harry smirked. "Yes. Unless, of course, my presence bothers you."

"Yes, well, I generally find you to be very distracting," said Draco in a flat voice. He didn't remember allowing those words to escape from his mouth, but it was worth seeing Harry blush.

"Catch you later, Mal- Draco."

Draco's heart warmed a little as he climbed up the stairs, steering away from professor Lupin's office, and walking toward his next class. It was nice, he thought, hearing his name finally being said in that warm, low voice.

Lunch came around, and brought Draco's favourite, shepherd's pie. It was something the house elves would always arrange for to make Draco happy as a child, whenever they spotted him crying. Of course, they'd always know the reason, but would never say a word. Although Dobby was much nicer than the others, by caring just a little more than his parents did. 

Huddling students were grouped up everywhere, and the Gryffindor table was in frenzy, with everyone talking rapidly among themselves. All the noise and muttering was much louder than usual, and even the teachers were mostly absent, Filch trying to keep order.

Draco pushed past the usual group of Slytherins, who were huddling over a newspaper, and squeezed his way to the middle of the group. He almost jerked back at the sight of the man in the picture. Something about him was recognisable, maybe his sunken eyes which were screaming as much as he was. It hit him, Sirius Black, spotted near Hogsmeade. 

Draco felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He'd heard about Sirius through his family, and was altogether very confused about the situation, but Sirius was clearly out for murder, which almost scared Draco. Anyone belonging to the Black family was probably delirious in some way or the other.

He looked towards Gryffindor table, and accidently caught Harry's eyes, which were full of worry. Part of him wanted to run over and hug him tight, but he refrained, feeling guilty for not being able to do anything.

But they both looked back at the demented young man, screaming against chains that were tearing at his skin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry sorry i've been travelling... agh and sorry for the crappy short chapter things'll start moving along in later chapters.

Haunted, empty eyes and a sunken face. Sirius's delirious laughter kept flitting in and out of Harry's dreams, which were more gruesome than anything he'd seen alive. He held his pillow tight, and shut his eyes as cold sweat traveled down his cheek.

But the pictures, they were crowding his mind. Narrow passages suffocating him, a giant, feral dog with bloodied teeth. It was all just too much. He couldn't breathe.

Tears escaped his eyes. He heard a scream, which filled his head. It was clouded with the familiar déjà vu of terrified hazel eyes, and wavy red hair. And a flash of green light drowning in manic laughter, that was growing closer and closer.

Until everything had become too much. The pictures behind Harry's eyelids made him force them open, as his chest heaved heavily and irregularly. For a second, he didn't know where he was, til the warm colour of the curtains drew him back to the Gryffindor dorms.

And for a second he forgot everything. For a second it was fine. Until it wasn't.

He took a deep breath in, and swallowed the urge to throw up, and looking around him, he fell to the bed beneath before brushing a hand through his soaked hair and sweaty forehead. But the rough dent of that scar sickened him.

That _awful_ scar.

* * *

Far below the Gryffindor towers resided a fair-haired boy, who just couldn't sleep. Not with the swirling thoughts of Sirius Black in his head, along with professor Lupin, his father, and just everything.

It was just all too much.

Draco's eyes were tired and sore after being rubbed so harshly so many times. The flickering fire in the torches may have warmed him up just a little, but he still shivered at the thoughts raging inside his mind.

He slowly got up from the bed, looking at the warm orange slowly colour the sky, though the waves of the lake blurred and rippled through it. Yawning and stretching, he picked up his Arithmancy book, cursing the subject, before trying to distract himself with it.

But the words weren't settling properly. They were moving around, swirling in different directions. They weren't stuck in his head, instead pushed away by the growing thoughts that were screaming louder and louder.

He threw away the book and sighed in frustration. Taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and let himself fall. Fall deeper and deeper into the ocean of thoughts threatening to drown him.

Images of family reunions, filled with foreign faces, his father, that carved cane, with the patterns. He shook his head, hoping the memories would fall from his mind's gallery. Draco Malfoy, firstborn and only child of the Malfoys. He couldn't live up to it.

He just couldn't.

So as the suns sunk in the sky, he'd run away. He'd run away to the astronomy tower, one of the only places he ever felt safe in anymore. Which was funny, considering the staggering height, and the cold winds crashed into his face.

* * *

"Harry, what happened?"

He wasn't okay. He wasn't. He found out way too much, and wished he could forget everything he'd heard. It was too much, he didn't want to know.

_Sirius Black was their friend._

_And he betrayed them._

The cold ice on the rock had never felt so numb. He didn't even know where he was. As soon as he found out, he ran. He ran far away, hoping he could escape it all. Hoping everything would be normal for once.

But he was enraged. The smiling man in the suit, wild hair and untucked shirt, smiling fondly at his father. Harry still had the pictures of his parents' wedding, and he wished he could tear the man out of the happy memory captured in the picture.

The man who laughed merrily, a completely different laugh from the one in newspapers, besides his best friends. The man raising a glass, while smirking at the red headed woman in the elegant, white dress, and smiling at the familiar man at the side.

_Did he know? Did he know he was going to betray his two best friends at that point? Was there a hint of malice, and pure evil behind his grin, a glint of evil behind his faded grey eyes?_

_Did he know he was going to destroy the happiness of everyone around him?_

Harry felt the cold wind wash over him as Hermione pulled off the invisibility cloak. It stung his burning eyes, and he felt an odd sense of nakedness, like everything he'd ever tried to keep secret was revealed to everyone.

And suddenly, words were escaping his mouth, as the sudden emotion turned to rage.

"He was their friend, and he betrayed them," he mumbled, more to himself. But he screamed to the forest, to the still air around.

"He was their friend!"

Everything was coming back into perspective for him. The snow falling and getting caught in his eyelashes, Hermione and Ron's terrified and pitiful faces. It was all so clear now. His insides were on flames, and something inside him was raging.

He knew what he was going to do. He knew now. There was no going back. He bit his lip harshly, til he tasted blood and tears pricked at his eyes. It was too painful. He was going to kill the man who'd killed all happiness for his family.

"I hope he finds me," he said in a cold voice. "'Cause when he does, I'm going to be ready. When he does, I'm going to kill him!"

Harry's voice was fiercer than ever, and his eyes were filled with hatred and rage. Ron took a step back, as the silence took over again. The cold air stood still, freezing the moment. Harry was going to kill him.

* * *

The hours turned into days, as the lessons moved in a blur, each barely blurring off into the next one. As the week passed, Draco's thoughts sunk further and further to places they shouldn't, and a certain professor couldn't help noticing the growing changes in the Slytherin boy.

Dark circles became more prominent, not that they weren't always, and his frayed sleeves remained lower than ever. And though Remus knew he should report this to Snape, he had a feeling that would only mess things up further. 

McGonagall was also an option, but she had enough on her plate, as well as Dumbledore, what with Sirius Black out of Azkaban. Remus knew he should tell Dumbledore about the animagus aspect, but couldn't help the dying light in his heart, telling him that Sirius was innocent.

Deep down, he knew it. After all this time, he still believed it. Because it was true, it had to be.

But as Remus turned through the newspapers, watching Sirius's dead eyes staring menacingly back at him, he could barely recognise the man who soothed him after his nightmares, and bought hot chocolate after the full moons.

He still felt the last fibers of their relationship holding them together.

He still believed there was something. Which was why, he was holding back tears when he saw two boys, one with dark, messy hair and one with light, combed hair sitting back to back at the perch of the astronomy tower. And he didn't have the heart to tell them it was after hours.

Red and yellow jumper back to back against green and white.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so let's ignore how horrendously late this was.
> 
> trigger warnings-- self harm ('cause draco still isn't okay). please read the tags, this story deals with sensitive topics.

A certain Slytherin sitting at the astronomy tower pulled his knees closer to his chest. The wind was flowing harshly through his hair. No longer gelled and combed, it was flying messily around his face and catching in his eyes. Draco brushed the hair out of his face and held his head in his cold hands.

Tonight was different. Instead of the kind of sadness that twisted his gut and drained him of strength, there was a cold emptiness that settled in his stomach. He couldn't feel. Or, the only thing he could feel was a hollow feeling inside.

No amount of pain could erase this feeling away. He wanted to scream, cry, shout, but he couldn't. It felt like something was holding him back, pulling him hard to keep him from escaping, well, whatever this was.

Draco's forearm was stinging badly, especially with the cold winds brushing streams of undried blood over his pale skin. He held his arm up, staring at the dark blood forming streams over his arm. It was almost poetic, like a canvas being painted over.

There was something cathartic about seeing himself bleed. He could never place his finger on why, but the dark over his ale skin always seemed to calm him. When he was on the edge, when he was at rock bottom, it always managed to keep him steady.

But his steady heartbeat was broken as he heard footsteps. Before he turned around, he heard a sickeningly familiar voice call out his name.

"Malfoy?"

Harry was standing at the door entrance looking confused. The sentiment in his voice touched Draco, but the panic as Harry slowly neared made him sick, and twisted his gut with something similar to guilt.

"Malfo- oh Merlin, Draco?!"

Draco pulled his sleeve up, trying to look away from the growing red stains on his jumper. He felt a warm sort of presence take over as Harry sat down next to him. Butterflies rose in his stomach as Harry's warm hands held Draco's hand, purposefully ignoring the bloodstained sleeve.

"If you, you know, want to talk about it- I mean, I know we're not exactly that close yet, but if you want to talk about it, you can talk to me," Harry said awkwardly.

Draco looked up, tears burning his eyes, and gave a small but genuine smile. And without thinking, he reached out and hugged Harry. The action surprised him, but as Harry slowly wrapped his hands around Draco, something warm rose up in both of their chests.

They stayed like that, curled up and savouring each other's warmth. It was a lifetime, but also just a small fragment of both their lives. And they stayed like that, because they knew that this moment was a rare one. One that they'd maybe never live in again.

As they finally broke apart from the embrace, Draco's heart melted just a little at the sight of tears in Harry's eyes. Harry quickly wiped his eyes, and Draco could tell he was avoiding the his gaze.

The moment seemed stretched out. Like every second was a million years. And in the moment, Draco and Harry lived for each second. Draco leaned against Harry's back, and pulled his knees close to his chest.

And Draco didn't know how long he stayed there looking at the stars, watching them sparkle in the deep sky. He didn't know how long he stayed there, because it was all a blur before the wake of dawn was rising. Til the stars drowned in the rising sun.

* * *

The charms were cast over Draco again, just like his father taught him to. He had to look perfect; no dark circles, no bruises, no scars, not even a scratch. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. It was so... perfect, yet, it still seemed repulsive. Like something not to be touched. Something fragile inside, but made of stone.

He adjusted his tie, and took a deep breath, before making his way to breakfast, only to firmly avoid Harry's gaze.

Newspapers decorated the lunch table again, with Sirius Black's delirious face plastered over the papers, and dozens of theories on how he escaped. The crowds were less prominent, but considerate muttering was still spread across the hall.

A sharp fear took over Draco, as a memory hit him. He was thrusted back to the Malfoy family reunion of 1989. The dreaded meetings, in which Draco would have to dress up in those stiff suits, and sit there, listening to the grown-ups talk all the time. Because he was old enough to listen, but talking was always prohibited.

One remark by his father's brother's wife, or something like that, rang through Draco's head.

_"Sirius Black was always rebellious, I remember, making friends with those blood-traitors and stuff, posting those muggle magazines. Even ran away from his house, didn't he? That's why, it was a surprise when he targeted Potter," she'd begun. "The dark lord never even told me of his allegiance, which surprises me. He must've been a spy, I suppose."_

_"Oh yes," his mother had added. "Heard he still mutters delirious things in his sleep. Something about 'he's at Hogwarts' which truly shocks me. He really must've been loyal."_

Draco had no idea why this memory had struck him now. But it terrified him. His family knew about it. Sirius Black, heir to the Noble and Most Ancient house of Black. There was no way Harry was going to survive. Not if the secrets Draco heard about the family's involvement in dark magic and illegal curses were true.

_Does Harry know though? Oh Merlin, does Harry know?_

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hall, Harry Potter couldn't stay awake. He rested his head on his palm, and felt his eyelids slowly sinking.

"Oy! Harry!"

"Mm- I'm awake, I promise!"

"Harry," pestered Ron. "Wake up! McGonagall's looking at you again."

"Just one sec Ron."

"What happened mate?"

"Nothing. Just, didn't sleep that well last night. You know, with Sirius Black and all."

Ron's gaze softened, and his words seemed more sensitive as he spoke. "Y'know, you could always tell Dumbledore. Or Lupin, because- I mean- you guys seem close."

"No, it's good, I'm good."

"Whatever you say," he said, turning to get more bread.

* * *

The next few days passed by in a blur. Draco could hardly recall when he was supposed to meet Lupin, but at this point, he didn't care. The only thing he could focus on was Harry. Only Harry was on his mind. 

It was whether Harry was safe. Whether Harry knew. Surely Dumbledore must've told him. Maybe Lupin did. He didn't know, but he sure did hope. Draco also mentally debated whether to tell Harry himself, but in the end, decided that Harry wouldn't want to hear this, especially not coming from him.

So as the blur of days passed, Draco found himself growing more and more worried. And more and more guilty. Because he knew this piece of information. Dumbledore must've known, and he definitely wasn't the only one.

But the worry reached a peak. A peak of fear. On Wednesday morning. An owl swooping over the breakfast table on dropped something unfamiliar to Draco. A letter. It seemed normal to the others. But Draco knew better.

And Merlin, he was terrified.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no words.
> 
> (sorry)  
> (i hate the fact that drafts aren't automatically saved 'cause i'm a failure at responsibility)

The words were oscillating, he could've sworn, as he looked down on them. Handwritten, his father's ink. Draco felt light. Walls were swaying, and the ceiling was falling around him. He shut his eyes. Draco just wanted it to stop. Everything to stop.

The paper slipped from his cold shaky fingers. Every breath he took in wasn't enough, and was freezing his lungs. Thoughts were rushing through his mind, piercing through his brain at lightning speed. He couldn't take it. Words were flashing through his mind, blinding him.

_Durmstrang._

_Transfer._

_Honour._

_Dumbledore._

_Karkaroff._

_Family Name._

_Legacy._

Suddenly, he was running at a speed faster than he could fathom. The portraits were blurring, as distorted faces turned wide eyed at him. It wasn't long before the warmth of the castle was replaced by rushing winds, and blinding rays of light shining through holes in the dull, grey clouds covering the sky.

The smell of fresh grass was near sickening as Draco slowed down, feeling small drops of morning drizzle land on his skin. He just wanted to run away, be free. The quidditch pitch was right in front of him; the stands towering over, as the coloured stands wrapped around.

For just a split second, time stilled. All his fears dropped dead.

For just a split second, he felt free.

But the euphoria was shattered by a deep voice calling his name, and as Draco jerked his head to see, a dark figure in long robes slowly approached him.

"Malfoy? I'd have assumed you weren't the type to impulsively run away," droned Snape, dragging his words out. "As it is," he paused "I am the head of your house. Any of your concerns are to be handled by _me_." 

His voice was toned with snide and that tone of finality that managed to strike something inside of Draco. Creased eyebrows, a deathly glare, and pursed lips told him that nothing he did or said would be tolerated.

Draco hung his head, and followed. His fists were so tightly nails were piercing into his palm. He strode calmly, watching the wild strands of grass sway in the wind. Something inside him wanted to find that piece of paper, scrunch it up, and burn it. The thought terrified him, but adrenalised him all the same.

The deep, dragging voice shook Draco again.

"As it happens, I'm well aware of your situation. You don't surely think your parents wouldn't have consulted me? As for my opinion, I think it would be- ah, beneficial for you to know, your parents wouldn't want you to speak of it to anyone. The decision is still at an early stage, and if not for your father's position in the ministry, would be impossible."

Something in Draco's stomach sunk low.

* * *

"You're mental I'm telling you," blurted out Ron, hands wailing in the air.

"Excuse me? I'm being responsible!" Hermione's hair was tasseled, and her voice was frantic, but she remained composed. Crookshanks fiddled with a strand of wool, loose from her jumper, as he laid in her arms.

"Has your bloody brilliant mind thought about how much trouble he'll get in? The bloke was in _Hogsmeade_ , for Merlin's sake, and he was sneaking into that adult bar-"

"Well the _right_ thing to do would be-" 

"Since when has Harry cared about what's right?"

"He should! We've been accepted into this special school, and if we get expelled-"

"And you think telling Dumbledore that Harry sneaked into Hogsmeade, while Sirius Black's been running around, and ran into an adult pub's going to keep him from trouble?"

"It won't keep him- him from trouble... but, it's the right thing to do," trailed off Hermione, sounding more doubtful now. She let go of Crookshanks, who hurried outside, as her eyes flickered over to the crisp, ivory parchment that was lying on the floor, outside the arched entrance of the Great Hall.

"Ron, look!"

"Really 'mione, if this is just-"

"No, really, look here!"

She picked up the paper carefully, almost like she was scared it'd tear with her touch, and her eyes scanned the letter and lit up in shock. Ron look curious, his hands darting to the sharp edge of the parchment.

"Wicked," he exclaimed. "Dragon tooth parchment. Dad says it's bloody expensive, almost seventy galleons a foot. Charlie reckons it should be banned. But then again, he wants the law on trading dragons to be lifted."

"Not much of a surprise," muttered Hermione darkly. She showed letter to Ron, and pointed her finger at the elaborate signature of Lucius Malfoy, with the Malfoy emblem seal stamped right below.

Ron read through it, in a series of gasps and splutters, before looking at Hermione, who was wearing a stern expression.

"Well, at least we won't see Malfoy anymore. Phew," said Ron in a relieved voice.

"Shut up Ron!" Hermione looked and sounded exasperated. "Haven't you seen the way Harry looks at him now?"

"What- he doesn't- what?" Ron's face was so distorted, it was funny. Hermione suppressed a grin, and hit him lightly on the back of his head.

"Harry really likes Malfoy. I really don't know what goes on in that mind of yours, but the reason Harry's been so lost in thought recently is because of him."

Ron looked like he'd been punched. He opened his mouth, and closed it again. Then he began stuttering in an almost desperate tone.

"Harry- Harry's not- he's not- like _that-_ y'know- _bent_ -"

Hermione slapped him. Ron uttered a cry.

"So what if he is? So what if he likes Malfoy? He's still the same Harry we both know and love! He's still our best friend! And I hope you stick by that, Ronald."

"I- I- yeah, you're right," said Ron, rubbing his cheek sheepishly.

There was an uncomfortable silence as they both pondered over what'd happened. Ron looked at the ground and licked his lips, while Hermione's eyes still lingered on him, her chest still heaving.

"Well, we have to tell Harry about this, don't we?"

"Yeah."

The silence was stretched for an uncomfortably long time as they walked back up to their common room, covering their ears as the fat lady tried again to sing an agonisingly high tune. The common room was empty, save for a few students from higher years.

Harry was sitting, knees drawn to his chest, by the fire. He'd never looked so vulnerable. His eyes were filled with the ghost of fear, and his mouth was slightly parted, as the glassy reflection of flames danced in his iris.

The two of them sat behind Harry, who didn't seem to have noticed a thing. Hermione drew the paper from her pocket, and stared sympathetically at Harry, who seemed so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard them. But after exchanging a look with Ron, she tapped him on the shoulder, and flinched as he gave a start.

"Sorry- I- I didn't hear you two come in."

He eyed the letter in her hand, and turned his body to face the two. Hermione looked worried, while Ron looked out of place, eyes darting between Hermione and Harry. His hand reached for it, and took it away from Hermione's tight grasp.

"Harry," started Hermione in a steady, cautious voice. "We need to talk."

* * *

McGonagall's office was much warmer than Remus remembered. The window beside him let in glaring rays from the nearing full moon, which prickled Remus's skin as sickness pooled in his stomach. He uncomfortably sat down in the cushioned chair, hands under his thighs.

Professor- _she told him not to address her like that_ \- McGonagall seemed to sense his distress, as her gaze softened. With a soft wave of her wand, the curtains of the window fell, and the gargoyle lamps lit up, warming the room. 

A ceramic teapot poured warm tea into the teacups in front of both of them. McGonagall placed her wand back in the pockets of her robes, and laid back and twisted a ring on her finger. Her eyes had a knowing glint in them.

"Have a biscuit, Remus."

Her Scottish accent warmed something, albeit nostalgic, in Remus, who took the ginger biscuit from the ceramic plate, and dipped it in the tea.

"I think you and I both know who I want to talk about. Contrary to usual, it isn't Harry Potter. It's only now that I've taken a special interest in- _Draco_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> agh im sorry for such a short chapter. i promise i wont wait so long for the next update, and it'll be a wholesome chapter!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "i promise i wont wait so long for the next update, and it'll be a wholesome chapter!!"
> 
> my dishonest ass. but hey, long-ish chapter:)
> 
> tw; mentions of child abuse.

"What?!"

Harry's eyes grew wide in shock as Hermione's words sunk in. The letter was shaking with his hands, and a cold wind seemed to travel down his spine, despite the crackling fire and closed windows.

He couldn't wrap his head around it. Harry wanted to rip up the paper, wanted to throw it into the fire. Really, he just wanted it destroyed, he wanted the fact to cease from existing. Because no matter how many times he read the letter, the news wouldn't sink in.

It felt like a part of him was being dragged away from him, but he was holding onto it, and pulling with all his strength.

"Listen, Hermione, Ron, this- this can't be true. It- it isn't, Draco would've told me! Or- or professor Lupin, right?"

Ron's face was filled with pity, the sickening type. Harry didn't want Ron's pity. Hermione looked more determined, but her eyes also shone with that sympathy Harry hated. 

"Look at the date," said Hermione gently. "It was barely this morning. I don't think anyone except Draco knows yet."

"But- I- this can't be true! He- he can't go to Durmstrang, not now! Drac- Malfoy, he needs us," Harry was saying frantically, more to himself. "I- he can't leave!"

"Oi, you okay mate? He's Malfoy. Since when did he _need_ us?"

"Listen Ron, you- you don't understand. I just- I have to go find professor Lupin."

And with that, Harry hurriedly ran out, stuffing the letter in his pockets, leaving Hermione and Ron looking at each other warily.

* * *

Draco chewed at the inside of his mouth, as thoughts devoured his mind.

He wanted so badly to tell professor Lupin, but he knew it'd be impossible. On the other hand, a fresh start at a new school could be just what he needed to get his mind straightened out.

But what if this was his chance to escape from the Sacred 28's traditions? The whole marrying and producing able children, following the dark lord, securing a tight spot in the ministry? Honestly, Draco didn't know if he wanted to escape it.

Realisation hit him, however, as he realised that his father always got what he wanted. Whether through power and influence, money, magic, or all combined, his father always got his way. Draco knew he'd stop at nothing.

What if he'd stop at Dumbledore?

It was a stupid idea, and he knew it. A part of him didn't want to carry out with it, but he might as well talk to someone about it.

So he would.

"Professor Flitwick? Could I use the bathroom?"

"Certainly, as soon as I see you perform the _avis_ charm perfectly," said Flitwick in a voice Draco thought was too enthusiastic to be genuine.

Draco waved his wand, and muttered the phrase, and watched as small birds appeared from his wand, and travelled around professor Flitwick. He gave a small chuckle, and waved his hand, motioning for Draco to leave.

As soon as, Draco rushed out of the hall, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. As he rounded the door to professor Lupin's office, he hesitated for a split second, before knocking harshly on the door.

A very weary looking Remus Lupin opened it, and his face lit up in surprise as he saw Draco. He waved his hand, and Draco walked in, eyeing the bottles of a familiarly fiery smelling potion from which rings of smoke were rising from. 

"What brings you here so early, Draco?" Lupin went and hastily shut the case in which the potions lay.

It suddenly dawned on Draco that professor Lupin had other things to do beside console students, and he was probably intruding. "Sorry, professor, I'll come back later, when you're free."

"Oh, I'm free now, it's okay. Why don't you have a seat?"

A seat was drawn to where Draco was standing, and Remus sat in front of him. Draco awkwardly sat, fiddling with the hems of his robes. Remus broke the silence with his calm, yet horse voice.

"What happened? I've noticed that you were upset the past few days, and I hoped I could, maybe, help you," said Lupin. 

"You can't help me," whispered Draco.

"Why don't you try and tell me first. I'm sure we can help you, but first, it'd be easier to say it out loud."

Draco looked away from the professor's eyes, and mentally debated with himself.

"I promise, anything you say will stay within this room if you want, though I'm sure our teachers are more than capable of solving any issues."

"That's the problem, you can't solve it! My father wants me to move to Durmstrang. They- my parents- must've had an agreement, my father wanted me to go to Durmstrang when I was young because they have a finer education system."

"They did? But isn't that impossible?" Remus looked confused.

"Not when you're so high up in the ministry, it isn't," spat out Draco bitterly.

"Do _you_ want to move?"

"That's not- that's irrelevant-"

"No, your feelings aren't irrelevant. Do _you_ want to move?"

"I- I don't think so," said Draco hesitantly, wanting to bite back the words as soon as they'd left his mouth.

Lupin frowned. "Haven't you tried telling them?"

"There's no point, they don't listen to me."

"They should. Or at least, they should take your feelings into consideration."

Draco laughed bitterly. "Why would they do that? When it comes to my life, I'm the last person they care about."

"It shouldn't be like that. If you don't mind, I want to change that."

"You think I haven't tried? Where d'you think I got these from?" Draco pulled up his sleeve, and waved his wand, letting the charms fall. Pale skin was washed away by faded bruises that lay in lines, like each one was carefully imprinted onto his skin.

Professor Lupin's calm demeanor dropped, and a shocked face appeared. No, less shocked, more... stern? Draco couldn't place it, and that worried him.

"Professor?"

"Sorry- I just- we have to tell professor Dumbledore, or at least professor McGonagall," said Lupin.

"You said you wouldn't tell anyone!" 

"Listen to me, Draco. This is a crime. Not just legally, but morally too. Anyone who does this, no matter what they say, is wrong. This is something no child should ever have to go through, something no one in this world should ever go through."

"It isn't that bad, I mean, he does so much for m-"

"No matter how much he does for you, this is wrong," said Lupin, his voice thick.

A breath was caught in Draco's throat. He could feel tears pricking their way into his eyes, but he quickly blinked them back.

"Are you sure? That this isn't normal?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

A silence, less awkward than the last hung over them. Lupin broke it, his voice heavy with emotion. He spoke without looking up from his hands, which were wringing his fingers.

"I had a friend in a very similar situation," Lupin said, and a faint smile appeared with the memory. "He was- um- not their perfect son, shall we say. His parents tried to force their traditions and bigotry on him. He was kind of, let's say, the Black sheep of the family," said Lupin with a little chuckle.

"But one day, he crossed a line. He was kicked out, though he likes to say he ran away. Harry's grandparents took him in. And of course, at first it was difficult. But after a while, he slowly got through it, and slowly healed. Trust me, if he could get through what he'd been through, you can too."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. They were a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, so you'd know how horrible they were. He'd come back from the Holidays with scars left by dark magic."

"Professor, was this friend, by any chance, Sirius Black?"

Lupin looked up at Draco with a shocked, almost worried face. His eyes gave everything away, but he stuttered a small "I-n- no- no."

"My mother always taught me family history. I remember she said Sirius used to be mischievous, and they'd have so much fun during family gatherings. But after he joined school, he became indecent. And was even disowned at fifteen or something. But I heard them talking about how much they admired him now."

"I never really thought about it that way, actually. He seemed to hate his family," said Lupin thoughtfully.

"Professor, if you don't mind me asking, why did Harry's grandparents take in Sirius Black?"

"Oh right," Lupin chuckled. "Sirius Black and James Potter- Harry's father- were best friends. They were closer than ever, and knew each other like brothers. Honestly, to me they were brothers, if not by blood, then by love. So when Sirius ran away, it was natural for him to run of to his brother. And the Potters always treated him like their son. Together, they loved him more than his biological family ever did."

Professor Lupin's voice broke at the end, and he swallowed heavily. Draco picked up on it, and instantly felt guilty for pushing the professor who'd only been kind to him.

"I'm sorry professor, that was intrusive."

"No, it really wasn't. Everyone knew about our friendship. It just- some days I just can't believe what he did."

"I'm sorry," said Draco, really meaning it.

"But back to you," said Lupin, clearing his throat. "Your situation."

Draco bit his lip. He sounded wary and sceptical. "Are you sure you can help?"

"I'm being plain when I say this, what your parents do to you is illegal, not just in the wizarding world, but in the muggle world too. Trust me when I say that you'll find a way out of this."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How typical would it be of me to apologise for yet another late chapter?  
> side note- ivy is an original character that i've grown to like.

"Good evenin', ma'am. Thir's a sickly man 'ere tae see ye."

"Really?" The lawyer asked frantically, hastily pulling her feet off the desk as she stuffed her wand in her pocket. "Send him in then!"

Remus pushed open the door, and embraced the warmth of the cosy office. The books were all lined up messily in shelves, Remus recognised them, having borrowed most of them from her. The warm brown walls complemented the leather seat she was sitting in.

"Ivy," Remus breathed.

"Oh, thank god, Remus," she drawled in the familiar, lightly Gaelic accent. "Thought I'd have to deal with Harris again- the bast'rd's still coming in every day."

Swallowing thickly, Remus turned his eyes to her. She looked the same as before, just a little wilder, and an air of confidence surrounding her. Her black hair was tied up in a messy bun, a green blazer was hanging off her shoulders, and a smart but simple watch on her wrist. Her black shirt clung to her figure, outlining curves that had filled in since he'd last seen her.

She was beautiful, but not in a conventional way. Something about her features were mysterious, almost hypnotic. Intense eyes, sharp, small lips that were almost pale, and cheekbones that Remus remembered used to be too prominent due to hunger.

A small smile formed on his lips. "You really did achieve your dream, didn't you?"

"I did, didn't I? Took me six years and way too much bullshit to put up with, but here I am," she said proudly, stretching in her chair.

"I'm honestly so proud," said Remus, sitting down on the chair in front of her desk, and pushing his briefcase aside. "But as much as I'd like to catch up, I need your help."

"With what? I can't do much in the wizarding world, can I? I'm a _muggle_ lawyer-"

"That's the reason I came to you."

Ivy's eyebrows furrowed, and her grey eyes softened. Her eyes met his in an intense gaze. She waved her hand, and a clipboard arrived in front of her. Pulling a pen out of her bun, she bit her lip. "You've been learning occlumency?"

"What else could I do?" Remus shrugged. "They're always out to torture people- well, you know, werewolves, aren't they? Especially with my memories."

"Fuck, Remus, that's harsh. I'm so sorry, I should've been there for you, not chasing my wild fantasies."

"Of course not, we both had dreams. The difference is, you still wanted to chase them. After that night- I just- I didn't have it in me."

"You di'n't ask old Dumbledore for a job 'r something?"

"At first, he said there weren't any positions open, but thankfully he's given me the Defence teacher position this year-"

"Weren't any positions open?! What the fuck kind'v 'xcuse is that?! You w're lit'rally starving! 'nd after all yo'd be'n through-"

Remus smiled as her accent started getting thicker- it'd always been a trait he found adorable in her. "Calm down," he chuckled. "I can barely understand you."

"He's bloody useless, isn'he?"

"No, he's helped me this year, and I'd understand why he wouldn't want someone like _me_ -"

"Ev'n someo'e lik' you should be able to get a f'ckin' job! Hell, a f'cking home! 'S soon as we're done with this, I'mm'a have a word with him."

She stood up, and grabbed her bag from behind her chair, putting the pen back in her messy bun. Giving Remus an angry look- though not angry at him- she grabbed his wrist and stormed out of the room with him.

"He- hey, hey where're you taking me?"

"To my house of course," she said, as if it was the most obvious part of it.

They stormed into the reception, where she handed the tired receptionist a card, and waited for him to dial something, then pass it back.

"I- I can't intrude on your-"

"Shut it, Lupin, you're not intruding on anything. Was I intruding when you let me stay in your house when shit got bad?"

"No, but-"

"Point proven. Unless you think yourself _higher_ than me, your majesty-"

"Okay, okay," said Remus with a grin. "I'll stay at yours then."

"Good." 

She gave him a smile, took his hand, and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before running off, Remus grinning fondly just behind her.

* * *

Miles away, up a castle northern in the highlands of Scotland was a troubled boy who had trouble sleeping. The duvet was just too rough, and the pillow was just a little stiff. Every muscle in Draco's body seemed to ache, almost like heavy weights replaced them.

His tongue trailed over a sore spot in his mouth- after biting it so many times, he could taste blood.

Fluttering could be heard in the distance, and Draco furrowed his eyebrows, clambering into a sitting position. Stretching over to open the curtain between the bed posters, Draco peered around to find the source of the fluttering noise.

He was just about to dismiss it as a figment of his imagination, when a rather large snowy owl flew right in, causing Draco to scream. Draco quickly slammed a hand over his mouth, before remembering the silencing charms.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Draco squinted at the owl's full figure in the almost pitch black. He clumsily grasped for his wand, almost falling off the bed.

"Lumos," he whispered, before gasping loudly. "You're Harry's owl, aren't you?!"

The owl stared at Draco dumbly, tilting its head. Draco's eyes caught onto the letter.

He slowly picked the letter, nervousness buzzing inside of him. He couldn't help thinking that the owl must've gotten lost, though there was no way any owl as smart as this one wouldn't have recognised the glaringly Slytherin dorms.

Peeling open the letter, Draco took a deep breath. His wand was on the bed, and the light was shining in front of him. Illuminated words were scrawled messily on the parchment, which was a little torn.

_To Draco Malfoy,_

_I know you're moving to Durmstrang, I saw the letter. ~~Why didn't you tell me?~~ Just come ~~see~~ meet me, transfiguration classroom right now. Please don't ignore this._

_-Harry Potter_

Draco bit his lip. His heart was beating frantically against his chest, and his hands were almost shaking with adrenaline.

Slowly, but surely, Draco shrugged his night shirt off, and put on one of his shirts, and pulled on some sweatpants gifted to him by Blaise. He had to admit, muggle sweatpants were so much better than whatever the purebloods had to wear.

He slipped on his shoes, tucked his wand into his pocket, and quietly made his way out.


End file.
